


Digging to Nirvana

by Brigantine



Category: due South
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-30
Updated: 2011-07-30
Packaged: 2017-10-21 03:24:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/220371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brigantine/pseuds/Brigantine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ray and Fraser watch Diefenbaker dig a hole.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Digging to Nirvana

**Author's Note:**

> So I'm walking to work one morning, and I see this big yellow dog just going to town, digging a huge hole in the beach, and I think to myself, "Now there's somebody having a really good time." Which pretty much kick-started my first due South fanfic.

"Dogs are Buddhists, Ben." Canted back on his elbows, bare legs splayed out before him, Ray squints down toward the lake front where Diefenbaker, head down and huffing loudly sends great, damp sprays of beach sand arcing backward; left, right, left, right, splat splat splat.

Fraser grunts awake from his comfortable doze in the spring sun and props himself up for a better view. He'd been half-dreaming something pleasant involving Ray's right ear lobe, but the image slides away from him on waking. Pity. "And what has led you to this particular generalization?"

Ray gestures with his chin. "Look at him over there. Soggy, covered with gunk, full o' hot dogs and ice cream, diggin' like a happy maniac. Best. Day. Ever."

"You let him eat _nine_ chili dogs, of course he's in heaven," Fraser complains. "The hot dogs alone were bad enough, but with raw onions? Just wait until we're halfway home and the flatulence sets in, then we'll see how 'best' a day it is."

"And tomorrow," Ray continues blithely, "whatever he gets up to, as long as he ain't shot or at the vet, then _that_ will be his best day ever. See, it's all about the now for dogs."

"Mmm." Fraser licks thoughtfully at his lower lip. "You know he prefers to be identified as a wolf, Ray. I don't understand why you insist on calling him a dog."

Ray shifts toward him. The flex of a lean, blonde thigh immediately draws Fraser's attention, and he begins to mentally hunt around for the sunscreen, while his gaze remains focused on Ray's sunwarmed legs. Long, long, sunwarmed legs. There's something about Ray's bony knees, the way they curve into the palms of his hands, and there's that lovely soft spot at the backs... Oh dear.

"You," Ray scolds, jabbing a forefinger against Fraser's cotton-clad left shoulder, "shouldn't let him go around feeling bad about his mom being a sled dog. I mean she musta been a real special dog, or Dief's dad woulda just eaten her, like a woodchuck or something, instead of knockin' her up."

Fraser recalls that he left the sunscreen on the picnic table, way over there, in the shade. Hell. He doesn't want to get off the beach blanket. Ray smells like coconut and warm Ray, and the combination is entrancing. "Instead of 'knocking her up'? You're anthropomorph--well all right, in Diefenbaker's case I suppose that's not unjustified. Where exactly do you suppose he thinks he's going, anyway?"

"Australia."

"Ah." Fraser smirks. He counts the deep half-moon curves shadowing the right side of Ray's smile. Three. Ray's is a big smile, today.

"Hey. Respect the furball's ambition. Don't get condescending over there. Or patronizing? I get those two mixed up."

"I believe in this instance patronizing would be the more accurate of the two," Fraser offers helpfully.

By now most of Diefenbaker's upper body has disappeared down into his excavation. His sandy hindquarters and wagging tail flag the growing bunker as claimed territory, and he begins to bark furiously.

Ray shouts encouragement. "You tell 'em, Dief!"

"Good Lord, I hope he hasn't discovered a dead body down there."

"Nah. Dingos."

"Dingos?" Fraser is almost sorry Ray remembered to put his t-shirt back on about an hour ago. On the one hand, a sunburned Ray is a loudly unhappy Ray. On the other hand, Ray's slender shoulders are sprinkled liberally with the loveliest pale freckles, and Fraser misses them.

"Told you, Ben. Australia. Dingos are wise-asses. Dief's gotta get tough right from the start, or they won't respect him. C'mon, it's basic pack mentality, you know that."

"I don't know anything of the sort, considering that I haven't understood a word of this supposed cross-cultural exchange--though one would expect," Fraser adds doubtfully, "that if either you or I were eavesdropping, it would be me."

Ray shrugs awkwardly. His green t-shirt rides up just past his belly button. "He's not talking to you, buddy."

"Ray, one can not exclude another person from a conversation merely by intent. Anyway, chocolate is poisonous for wolves, and we have only Diefenbaker's word that Mrs. Cameron's pekingese wanted to come with us." Ray's belly button is awfully distracting; so round, so lickable, so... so _not now._ Their picnicking spot is fairly isolated, but it's not that isolated.

"Shows how much you know," Ray asserts loftily.

Fraser grunts, silently weighing the risks of further argument against what he hopes to do to Ray later.

Diefenbaker yelps piercingly, his entire body waggling. His tail thrashes wildly, a blur of ragged white plume.

Ray's smile is a bright gleam of teeth in the sunshine.

Fraser eyes him sideways. "Now what?" _Do not lick Ray's smile, do not lick Ray's smile._

"Girl dingo!" Ray's delighted yelp snaps his abdominals taut. His hips jerk sharply.

"Oh, for heaven's sake." _Hips. Belly. Hips hips hips._ Fraser wonders if it's too early to ask if they can go home. He closes his eyes and starts counting backward from one hundred.

There is an extended period of yelping and whining deep within the bowels of the sandy hole, followed by more barking and excited tail-waving.

Ray interprets, "Dief's got himself a date Tuesday night. Way to go, furball!"

Fraser pushes off from his elbows to sit upright. "A _date?_ "

"Sure. Girl dingo, boy wolf. You got a problem with the international dating thing?"

"Certainly not, it's just--"

"Don't like them Aussies maybe? Never figured you for the prejudiced type, Ben."

Fraser counters with some asperity, "How can they possibly manage to meet on Tuesday if today is Sunday, and she is currently on the other side of the planet?" He ticks off obstacles on his fingers. "Even assuming that she could get a ticket for a flight out of Australia today, and that an unescorted canine would be allowed on a commercial airplane, the quarantine period after landing would preclude--"

Ray collapses backward, cackling with glee.

Fraser makes a sound like cold water hitting a hot skillet.

Diefenbaker backs out of the hole and raises his head. The half-wolf's tongue lolls redly, a lump of mud perched jauntily on the end of his nose. He grins at Fraser over the crater, bright-eyed and knowing.

Fraser snorts and flops onto his back. "Incorrigible, the both of you!" He throws a forearm over his eyes as a sort of exclamation mark.

Ray sits up and leans over him. The silhouette of his head blocks the sun as he repeats, "All dogs are Buddhists, Benton."

"I hardly think conspiring to play a practical joke is evidence of enlightenment." The sun behind Ray's unruly blonde hair creates what Fraser tells himself is an entirely secular halo.

"It is too. Jeez, don't you ever wonder how come Buddha's always got that little smile?"

Fraser peers from behind his retreating wrist. "That is an expression of serenity, reflecting the Buddha's understanding of the Truth."

"That is an expression of the kick he gets out of making a smartypants Mountie think his wolf just dug a hole all the way to Australia." Ray grins, "Or the Truth about Life. Same thing."

Fraser gripes, "Are you trying to convince me that spending an afternoon pretending to dig a hole to Australia is an expression of enlight--"

"Zen digging. It's the little things, Ben. Dogs get that."

"Preposterous!"

Dief bounds onto the blanket and snuffles earnestly at the bottoms of Fraser's bare feet, making sulking impossible. Giggling, after all, tends to ruin the effect.

Ray leans in very close, his blue eyes gleaming warmly. "If I exceed the speed limit kind of a lot on our way home, we could both be naked and noisy about an hour from now."

"Zen driving?"

"Zen canoodling," Ray promises.

Fraser lunges upward for a quick, hot kiss and scrambles off of the beach blanket. "You dry off Dief, I'll re-pack the cooler!"

Home. Bed. Naked Ray. Best day ever. And if Buddha wants to smile at that, he's welcome to it.

 

~~#~~~


End file.
